Finally Getting Better
by SliceOfStrawberry
Summary: It's finally a world without Voldemort, without darkness. There isn't any need to check over your shoulder for danger anymore. There should be happiness, joyfullnes, and celebration. People are finally forgetting. Right? Then, why won't the pain go away?
1. Chapter 1

**(A/N) Hello, readers! Thanks so much for clicking on my story. I won't let you down, I promise! Now, enjoy!**

**From, FantasyIsTheNewReal. :) **

DPOV

Chapter 1) Hate

Draco Malfoy sits in his cavernous chamber in the Malfoy Manor, and stares down at his rough, scarred, hands. These are hands of a murderer, he thinks. Hands that have taken lives from innocent people. Hands he wishes he didn't have.

Finally, in the quiet and loneliness of his room, he cries. He lets loose tears for the first time in his life, tears that had been held back for months. The drops slide down his pale, defined face, leaving clear trails across his once-perfect profile. He doesn't wail or sob though… he just allows himself to silently, without drawing attention to himself, grieve… just as he's done for so long.

He hates himself. He hates himself for being weak, for being the cause of his father's death, for not being strong for his mother. He hates himself for striving for the approval of a man who brought his own family into a situation that could and would only end in disaster. Which it did. He hates himself for the last two years of his life, the years where the words good and bad held no meaning any more. He hates himself for being a Malfoy. He hates himself for being stupid, selfish, and confused. He hates himself for being a coward.

He hates himself for not being a Harry Potter – selfless, courageous, loved, _happy. _He hates himself for even comparing himself to that… that… _Gryffindor. _

He hates himself for everything he did wrong.

A sharp rapping on his bedroom door pulls him from his thoughts. Draco hastily wipes his tears away and slips on a cold, unreadable mask. A second later, his mother steps inside, a hollow smile playing at her lips. In her hand, she grips a scarlet envelope with a dark seal. He recognizes it immediately. It's a letter he had once eagerly awaited for, every year. But that was long ago.

Still staring at the letter, he snaps, "What is _that_ for?", and there's a flash of hurt on his mother's pale face.

Just then, he notices a twinkle in Narcissa's eyes. It's a twinkle that had disappeared after his father's death, a twinkle he hasn't seen in far too long. It makes his mother's face beautiful once more, and it's so endearingly familiar that he softens his tone… to erase that painful, hurt expression that he never wants to see on her face again. "It's… it's the letter, isn't it?"

His mother doesn't say anything. She just smiles a little more, and sets it softly on his desk. Then, she walks out of the room, just as smoothly and quickly as she came in.

His heart – and it's funny just thinking it – he has a _heart? – _thuds nervously, frantically, as he heads to his desk and slits open the envelope. His eyes flit across the page as just barely scans the first few sentences of the letter.

_We are pleased to inform you… are being welcomed back to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry… supply list has been enclosed… We anticipate your arrival…_

He can barely breathe. He reads over those same phrases again, hungrily, desperately, not daring to believe it. But for once, he lets himself dare, lets himself believe – and he lets himself hope. He runs just barely trembling fingers over that seal once more, and revels in its familiarity, in the fact that he's actually seeing it for the _seventh time. _

For the first time in weeks, Draco smiles. 


	2. Chapter 2

**(A/N) How was the last chapter? I forgot to beg for reviews. So: Please review! Do you like the way it's going? Did you cry? Loved it, hated it? I NEED FEEDBACK – it's what keeps the story going!**

**From, FantasyIsTheNewReal. :) **

HPOV

Chapter 2) What if I can't do it either?

Hermione Granger's scream of joy could probably be heard a mile away. In her hand is a scarlet letter, embellished with the Hogwarts seal. This is my second chance, she thinks. Her chance to finish her education, something she had dreamt wistfully about all summer. Her chance to take a shot at the world, to do something worthwhile, to make a difference. Just thinking about the challenging NEWTs coursework, the higher level classes, and the opportunity to bury herself into a book from the vast Hogwarts library for hours on end makes her stomach tingle with anticipation. Of course, this year was optional, but who would turn down such a chance?

Re-reading through the letter once more, she finds out that the "eighth years" – which would be everyone in her own year – would have the same syllabus as the seventh years, but a whole living quarters would be set aside especially for them… Inter-House-Unity or something. The letter also states that according to Dumbledore's last wishes for the school, _any_ child may retake the year. Obviously referring to the Death Eaters' children, Hermione thinks slightly sourly. But she shakes off those thoughts, and focuses on the positives. _She's going back!_

She is just about to run down stairs to show her parents, but then she remembers. The pain cuts at her like knife to her chest. They are gone. Never coming back. Ever.

Hermione bites back her lip, forcing the tears away. Enough days of her summer had been devoted to sobbing herself to sleep, looking at old albums and mourning over something she knew that she couldn't fix. Merlin, half of her just wants to stop, give up. Yes, the war is over, but she feels barely any happiness. Pushing the thoughts of her parents away, Hermione sits back down on her bed, and places the envelope carefully onto her desk.

Was she ready to face Hogwarts again? Was she ready to put all the thoughts of the war behind her and start afresh? And what about all those who fought against Hogwarts? She admitted to herself that she was not ready to see them, without hitting them with a full on Bat-Bogey Hex. And were her friends even going to come?

She drops her head into her hands, closes her eyes, and lets the tears that have been burning them seep out of the corners. Suddenly she feels as if her heart had dropped to the bottom of her stomach. Harry wouldn't come back, she knows it. He has had enough. He was still under the impression that every life that had been taken had been his own fault. He does not need the rest of his education. He does not want it. It would be too much for him – every step he takes in the castle would be a reminder of those who had died for him.

And suddenly she's angry. How can he think that it's any different for her, for Ronald, for anybody else? Doesn't he realize that for her, too, every step through the familiar halls of the school will feel like she's living through it all over again? Doesn't he know how hard it will be, whether or not Voldemort is a constant threat? Doesn't he know that memories of loved ones lost during the war and the Battle of Hogwarts will haunt every single one of them that return to Hogwarts? Doesn't he?

A sob tears through her chest as a broken slideshow of familiar, anguished, and terrified faces flashes in front of her. She sees the falling bodies, the deadly curses flying through the air, and all her friends, covered in blood, all over again. She sees her parents, staring at her, with lifeless, glazed eyes. She hears the screams, the oaths and swears, that chilling, malevolent cackle of the monster who was the cause of all the pain. She feels the mind-numbing pain of Bellatrix's unforgiving Cruciatus inflicted upon her over and over and over. She hears her own screams.

She's choking back the sobs now, because she knows it'll only make her pain worse. She will not cry anymore. She will not. But it's so hard to hold it all in.

As soon as she can breathe freely once again, she feels unbelievably selfish and guilty. She has no right to judge Harry. He has lost more than any of them, endured more and gone through more. She has no right to be angry at their savior, their hero – the reason it was over, the reason they could walk the streets without having to look over their shoulders in suspicion. They all owed him their lives, and she could understand why he wouldn't – couldn't – return to Hogwarts.

And suddenly, she doesn't know how she's going to manage it either.

**(A/N) What did you think? Anybody shed any tears? I did. :) **

**I know this one was a bit longer than the last one, but hopefully they were still good. **

**Please review! Go on, just click that little button down there, go on… :) **

**From, FantasyIsTheNewReal. **


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